


like real people do

by nightwideopen



Series: Ace Fics [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Smut, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightwideopen/pseuds/nightwideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Autumn progresses over those two months, and as the leaves keep falling around them, Harry keeps falling in love with Louis.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	like real people do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovefindhope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefindhope/gifts).



> Hello! This takes place in New York and Union Square, a place I like visiting very much. You should visit it or google map it if you've never seen it. I liked writing this and I loved writing about my city, I hope that shows through.
> 
> Harry works at the Strand bookstore, one of my favorite places, just for reference.
> 
> I hope this does justice to the prompt! 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING FOR ANXIETY AND DESCRIPTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS
> 
> (i would just like to apologize for the serious surplus of exposition and the way it loses detail as it goes on. it's something i really need to work on as a writer and i hope it doesn't ruin the story)
> 
> Title from Hozier's 'Like Real People Do'
> 
> Enjoy! Hopefully!

The first day of a new season always proves to be a time of high anxiety for Harry. Despite being open to the beauty that is the changing of the leaves and the impending holiday season, his body and irrational mind disagree. September twenty-first results in a sharp temperature drop, and so Harry’s first panic attack of autumn comes in the form of him not knowing what to wear.

Harry’s open window sends in a cold gust of air that says jacket, while the weatherman on the TV argues that the temperature will go up and that he could simply go out in a sweater. The weather app on his phone disagrees that the temperature is high now and will drop later, which calls for a long-sleeved shirt to which he can put a light jacket or a sweater over later. But Harry knows that the tall buildings of Manhattan will create lots of wind tunnels even though the open space of the park will be hot in the sun. And so he’s got twelve pairs of pants and nine shirts, all varying in sleeve length, spread out across his bedroom as if his closet vomited up half of his wardrobe.

Riley is on his bed, covered in what looks like a pair of sweatpants. Her ears have already perked up, and she’s started to whine. She jumps off of the bed the moment Harry’s chest tightens and she’s right there when Harry collapses to the floor. Startled by Riley’s head nudging at his side, he tries to push her away. But she’s a big dog, adamant as she’s been trained to be, and doesn’t give up until she’s nosed her way underneath Harry’s arm and onto his lap. His breathing becomes less harsh after a few minutes, and Riley begins to lick his face as a question.

Harry’s hands are still shaking when the golden retriever lets him sit up. He hugs her tightly, whispering thanks and apologies for pushing her away.

Five minutes or so pass before Riley frees herself from Harry’s grip and starts nosing around the room. Harry is just about to redundantly ask what the hell she’s doing when she brings him a pair of jeans and a lavender sweater. 

He holds the sweater up, thoughtful. But...

“I’d have to wear a-” He drops the sweater just in his lap to see Riley holding a plain white t-shirt gently in her mouth. “You’re my best girl, aren’t you?” he coos. Harry smiles, reveling in Riley’s enthusiastic tail wagging. 

The rest of the morning goes without incident, Riley only having to hassle him for ten minutes to take his meds after he turns his alarm off, repeatedly ignoring it. He’s able to leave his apartment with a travel mug of coffee in one hand, Riley’s leash in the other, and his pale blue backpack on his back while the meds kick in and he’s finally able to breath right again.

Harry manages to be right on time for work, which is rare, and he shows up with a smile on face. Despite having such severe anxiety, Harry sees the world through rose colored glasses as if to tell his disorder to go fuck itself. Niall calls him stupid for being so optimistic, but it’s really the best paradox he could ask to be with his condition.

The shop is significantly crowded (for nine in the morning) when Harry arrives, as per usual. There are at least two dozen customers milling about the first floor, perusing the miles of books and products that the bookstore has to offer. It’s Harry’s day to work shelving, so he gets to that straight away, feeling oddly good for a day that started out so panicky. His shift goes by faster than usual, Riley there to tug on his sleeve when he gets too worked up over shelving something wrong. There’s more than one instance where she has to pull him to the floor for a break so he doesn’t erupt into a full scale panic attack. Other than that, Harry’s anxiety stays surprisingly subdued for a turn-of-the-season day.

Niall stops him at 2 PM for lunch, as is routine for them. It’s the first of the four hours where their shifts overlap, and they always go to the park for lunch since Riley, as well as Harry himself, can use some fresh air. The park is two blocks away, and that’s where they sit after picking up their Wednesday Burgers. Niall begs that they break their routine to quell his craving for sandwiches, but even Riley whines in protest because sandwich day is Friday, and they all know that.

“So how’s the equinox treating you this time ‘round?”

Harry shrugs, feeding Riley one of the two patties from his burger. “It’s fine. Riley knows what she’s doing, calmed me down after an episode this morning. She’s still learning. Today’s been easier than usual, though. Guess ‘cos I’m real excited for Halloween and Christmas this year and I’m not dreading the weather as much, either. Looking forward to some snow. Ice skating.”

“That’s good.” Niall nods. “Did you see the new shipment of children’s books? Gonna be a good one this month.”

“Stocked ‘em myself,” Harry informs him with a smirk.

Every month, new children’s books are published and their bookstore usually gets the first shipment of however-many copies that are going into the first round of sales. Niall and Harry use their employee discounts to buy a copy of the newest ones and make fun of them on the last day of the month, donating them to schools that can’t afford many books when they’re finished.

“Ah, shit.” Niall sighs. “Gonna have to break tradition next month, eh? The last day is Halloween and I’m scheduled to work, most likely. We’ll have to bump up Bad Book Day to the 30th.”

Harry shakes his head adamantly, a stickler for tradition and routine lest his anxiety acts up over the change. “No reason we can’t do it in the morning, or right after your shift. I’m off that day, plus parties are always super late… No need to break tradition.”

Niall shrugs as they both take the customary last bite of their respective burgers- Harry’s first, Niall’s third.

“We’ll see.”

+-+-+

When Harry returns home to his apartment, he’s very hungry. Unfortunately, he hasn’t had a chance to stock up on food what with work, night classes, and his goddamn deadline. It’s actually quite pitiful, the lack of food in his refrigerator. It’s more despairingly empty than it was the fourteenth time he opened it, somehow tricking himself into thinking that the next time he opened it, food would magically appear. There’s nothing that Harry could feasibly throw together to create anything edible. He’s just about to start panicking when Riley whines loudly, reminding him to breath in order to stave off the impending anxiety attack.

“Alright.” Harry sighs. “Okay. To Whole Foods it is, then.” His stomach is starting to rumble desperately. “No leash, just your vest, c’mon.”

He breaks into a run by the time he reaches the corner of the park. His apartment is directly diagonal from the supermarket, so he always cuts straight through the park rather than walking around it, even if it is quite sketchy at this late hour.

The cold air feels good in his lungs and Riley is hot on his heels. He feels oddly free, sprinting through the dark, under the trees that are letting some moonlight shine through, the city at his feet. He feels… calm. Anxious Harry seems to have disappeared. Maybe Anxious Harry needs to start doing more liberating things so Calm Harry can make more appearances. Perhaps it’s the very routine that he needs to ward off his anxiety that’s keeping it lurking around. He’s feeding the monster under his bed…

The chill of the supermarket washes over him when he steps in, and he’s immediately encountered by an angry-looking bald man who growls something along the lines of _no dogs allowed_.

Harry understands the fear of Riley shedding all over the place, but he needs her, and he has his rights.

“She’s a service dog,” he explains calmly. He can feel Riley getting agitated next to him, as well as his heart rate start to pick up uncomfortably in the face of confrontation. Both of them are clearly aware that this man is a potential threat.

“You don’t look blind.”

Harry rolls his perfectly functional eyes. “I’m not. I have severe anxiety and I need her by my side in case I have a full scale panic attack over which cereal to get.”

He pushes passed the angry bald man, who obviously doesn’t believe him, and tries to get his shopping done fairly quickly. Fortunately, Harry thinks ahead of his anxiety and doesn’t allow himself to make difficult choices. He simply buys brands and foods that he’s seen his mother buy and that he’s grown up with. He permits two foreign items per shopping trip to try so that he’s always expanding his horizons without stepping out of his comfort zone.

Collapsing into bed that night, Harry feels oddly at peace with himself. Riley curls up next to him, falling asleep rather quickly. Somehow, Harry’s mind drifts to all of his past relationships, how they didn’t work out. He recalls the one’s that couldn’t cope with his anxiety pre-Riley, the one’s that couldn’t cope with Riley running to his side when he’d panic over sexual advances. Just as well, he remembers the one’s that couldn’t cope with the fact that he’ll never want to have sex with them ever.

He’s not sad over how many people have left him for one reason or another, because each of them have left a mark on Harry’s life and played some part in helping him find himself and realizing what he deserves despite his disorder. He knows that the right person will come along: Someone who accepts him, someone that makes him feel as alive as he did when he was running through the dark streets of New York City.

+-+-+

Harry doesn’t have another panic attack until the following Friday.

He took the day off because he had woken up with an inexplicable vomiting episode, which in turn gave him a hard time breathing. Vomiting scares him to begin with, so after about half an hour of non-stop retching and dry heaving, there isn’t much he can do besides cry. Riley doesn’t know what to do, not trained for bouts of sickness, but it’s obvious that she can sense the change in his brain chemistry due to his anxiety because she hasn’t stopped scratching at the bathroom door. On top of that, he hasn’t yet gotten a chance to take his medication, which he is now too weak to retrieve. 

Harry opens the door, getting irrationally annoyed at the mound of golden fur that climbs into his lap.

“Riley,” he groans, “Phone. I need my phone. Get you get it? Can you fetch me my phone?”

She perks up at the word, well trained in this area because of how forgetful Harry is. She returns with it in her mouth shortly, thankfully free of slobber so that Harry can dial Liam’s number right away.

He picks up on the third ring.

“ _Hello_?”

Harry momentarily forgets not to wheeze into the receiver, lest he give Liam a stroke. “C-can you come- can you come over? T-to my? Come please? Hurry?” He hangs up quickly before Liam can start asking questions.

In hindsight, he could've texted him.

Riley resumes her position, applying pressure to Harry’s abdomen so he can at least attempt to get his breathing under control.

He can’t though, and he’s still unable to take a sufficient amount of oxygen into his lungs when Liam arrives. He barely sees him burst through the bathroom door because his vision is blacking out from his continuously sharp and shallow breaths.

“Harry?” Liam stumbles towards him, trying to avoid Riley’s tail. “Harry, I’m here, calm down. What hap- Never mind. I need you to take a deep breath, okay?” He places one hand over Harry’s diaphragm. “Can you push my hand out? Can you do that for me, Harry? God- Riley _move_.”

The dog growls but slinks out of the way, though she refuses to lose physical contact with Harry and keeps her head on his outstretched calves. Harry- who tries his best to suck in a deep, gasping breath- is vaguely aware of Liam. The tears have long stopped, but his stomach still feels much like a storm is brewing inside out it. A fresh wave of nausea runs through him, and he keels forward, nothing coming out.

“Harry, it’s alright. Just breathe. One big breath. We’ll both do it on three, okay? Ready? One, two-”

Harry manages to inhale deeply, albeit shakily, the dizziness intensifying for a moment before he exhales and inhales once more to clear it up.

“There we go. Keep breathing, we’re not done. No rush, just breathe, Harry.”

By the time Harry’s lungs are able to fill and empty sufficiently, he’s regained enough cognitive function to be slightly coherent. The first thing he says before anything else is a stuttered apology.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Harry, it’s fine, really. You just scared me. You know I’ll always help if you need it. And I’m glad you called, you could’ve passed out, breathing like that… Think you’re okay to get into bed?”

“Yeah, but-” With Liam’s help, Harry staggers to his feet, “Kitchen. I-I want tea. Need,” he coughs worryingly, “Something warm.”

“Just get into bed, do some breathing exercises, let Riley take care of you. I’ll make the tea; you can barely stand on your own.”

Harry listens, reluctantly, collapses into bed and doesn’t move. Tears slip down his cheeks, because he’s _embarrassed_. He can’t do anything on his own. It’s annoying, the amount of times he’s called Liam in times like these, because he can’t even take care of himself like a normal adult. He’s like a _child_.

He doesn’t say anything to Liam when he returns, just gently slides out from under Riley and accepts the tea. In turn, Liam pretends that he doesn't notice that Harry’s been crying. They’ve have this conversation countless times over the years, all too familiar with each other’s speeches.

That’s why it’s unsurprising when Liam breaks the silence after he’s emptied his mug with, “You know that I don’t mind.”

“But _I_ do.”

“I know.” Riley licks at Harry’s hand. “She’s got to be walked… You weren't busy, were you?”

Liam shakes his head. “Just my day off, was cleaning up the apartment.”

“You don’t mind staying?” Harry’s eyes drop to his socked feet sheepishly. “I need some air to clear my head alone but- I think I need some company.”

“Tea helped?”

Harry nods. “Tea helped.”

“Good.” Liam pulls him into a hug, awkward from the side angle but warm and gentle nonetheless. “I’ll be here when you get back, pop in a movie.”

“Something happy,” Harry reminds him.

“Of course.”

Suffice to say that Harry is well underdressed for Riley’s walk. The wind is sharp against his cheeks and ears and he’s trying his best to keep his head up so he doesn’t run into anyone. The park is filling up, the time crawling more into of a midday than a morning, which is when only the local residents are out and heading to work. The tourists have started showing up, crowding around where Harry’s taken to resting on one of the park’s famous long steps. Some of them snap pictures of Riley and his own hunched over, Packers hoodie-ed form. He can see the banner of the bookstore from where he’s sat, suddenly remembering Niall. He’s never missed a day of work before, so he doesn’t know if Niall will be looking for him, or even notice that he’s missing. Maybe he’ll come look for Niall around lunch time.

He’s in the middle of trying to remember what’s on their lunch menu for today when something hits him in the back causes him to be propelled forward onto the concrete. Riley’s leash slips out of his now scraped hands and he can hear her growling and barking over someone else’s voice. She’s trying to protect him from someone touching him now that his heart rate has picked up again. He can’t afford an attack in public, his dignity is wounded enough from this morning.

“Riley, it’s okay. _Sit_.”

The dog finally quiets down and Harry is finally able to hear the apologies being hurled at him.

“I’m so sorry, I was in such a rush. I didn’t mean to kick you I can’t believe you fell over I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I’m so, so sorry.”

Harry doesn’t say anything while he tries to keep his breathing under control. The stranger continues to ramble at him as he stumbles to his feet and grabs RIley’s leash from the ground.

With a sigh, Harry looks up, finally seeing the person that’s most likely left him with a nasty bruise.

He’s unexpectedly small, several inches shorter than Harry with a large messenger bag slung across his chest that dwarfs him even further. His bright, blue, sincerely apologetic eyes are nearly covered by the long swoop of hair across his forehead, and he looks very much in a rush. He’s jittery, waiting for Harry to reply, like he’s had twelve cups of coffee laced with Red Bull. 

“It’s fine,” Harry says dully.

“Are you sure? I mean, I nearly fell over myself, it was pretty hard, I-”

“It’s fine,” he repeats.

The blue-eyed stranger takes a step forward, but Riley barks so he jumps back, startled.

“I-” Harry takes a deep breath and composes himself; he’s being rude. “I’m sorry. Also about her, she’s a service dog, can sense my anxiety.”

Messenger Bag pales further. “Did I do that? God, I’m so sorry, it’s-”

“Weren’t you in a rush?” Harry says with a smirk.

“Fucking-” He looks at his watch, and his eyes widen. “ _Shit_.” And he sprints off, knocking into several people in the time it takes for him to disappear from Harry’s line of vision.

Harry looks at Riley, she looks back dumbly. “You don’t have to be so mean all the time. I didn’t even catch his _name_.”

+-+-+

For the first time in a long while, Harry wakes up before his alarm. To make matters worse, it’s a _Thursday._ (Nearly a week after his impromptu vomit attack and he’s been afraid of a repeat ever since.) Going back to sleep for the full ten minutes before his phone starts chirping obnoxiously would be useless. So he makes his way through the dimly lit apartment, the sun already starting to annoyingly filter through the windows. Riley is at his heels, nipping at them as a reminder for Harry to take his medication. 

“God, Riley.” He flicks his foot at her. “It’s not time yet; just ‘cause I’m awake doesn’t mean- _Fuck_.” Harry trips over his own foot as well as a blanket and goes tumbling onto the carpeted floor of his bedroom. It’s all he can do to not start crying, because that’ll set the stage for the rest of his day. 

He takes a deep breath, calmly gets dressed and gets Riley's harness and leash on. Then he reaches into the cupboard where he keeps Riley's food… and turns up empty. 

“Lovely.” Riley looks up at him expectantly. “To the store we go.”

The nearest Petco is luckily just across the street. Harry hasn't been there in a while, always has a bag of dog food delivered to his apartment each week by Liam, who works there. Either Liam has gotten fired or promoted, because he's out of dog food. He's never out of dog food.

Sure enough, when he walks into the store, Liam isn't there. The dog food aisle is thankfully vacant, so he and Riley can get to their brand and out of the store as quickly as possible. People being in his way always sets Harry on edge, who’s too nervous to say “Excuse me.”

“Hey!”

Harry jumps, dropping the bag of dog food and nearly falling into the nearest shelf.

“Sorry! Are you alright? I didn’t mean t- We’ve been here before, haven’t we? Sorry again. Thought I'd recognized your dog. How are you?”

Harry’s been startled into silence, staring blankly at this stranger who seems to know him. This stranger who is now approaching him. He backs up behind Riley, his hands beginning to tremble slightly. His heart’s already thumping in his chest, and he wonders if the stranger can hear it. He knows Riley can.

Suddenly the stranger is five feet away, and Riley begins to growl at him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t remember me, do you? Why would you, you probably wanted to erase that horrible interaction from your mind as quickly as possible. I kicked you in the park that day. I was running late.”

It dawns on Harry slowly, and that face and voice match up to his memory of that day. It was only a week ago, how could he have forgotten so quickly?

“Right, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve got, y’know, like I said. It’s really bad. You scared me. Yeah, I’m doing fine- Riley, it’s okay, sit.” 

“I'm Louis.” Oh good, he has a name. “Louis Tomlinson. Sorry about bothering you, I seem to have a knack for this.” 

But the kindness in his eyes doesn't scare Harry at all, in fact it's quite comforting to know that someone is genuinely concerned about the way he's feeling. Harry is assured enough that he emerges from behind Riley's cover and offers his unsteady up for a shake.

“Harry. Uh, Styles. It's nice to officially meet you. Have you been working here long?”

Louis accepts the hand, then begins to pick up the things that Harry's knocked over. “Only just started last week. I haven't been doing well, though, I imagine I'm going to get fired soon.”

Harry was right, then. 

“Don't say that. Ask Liam to help you out, I'm sure he will.”

Louis scoffs. “Liam hates my guts. He's too uptight.”

“Liam's my best friend,” Harry pouts, “Just don't get on his nerves.”

“I think we’re long past that, Harry, my friend.”

Louis hands Harry the bag of dog food that he'd dropped in his fright.

“I'll talk to him for you,” Harry offers. “He's really a big mush, he just likes to do a good job. He got promoted, right?”

“Yeah.” Louis blinks twice before it occurs to him. “Oh. Okay, yes, perfectly reasonable. If you could talk to him for me, tell him I'll be less of a blubbering idiot, that'd be great. I really need this job.”

Harry nods, offering a helpful smile. “I don't know if Liam told you… but I need this,” he gestures to the bag of food in his hands, “Brand of dog food, just one bag exactly like this one delivered to my apartment every week.”

“I forgot to do that, didn't I?”

A nervous laugh slips passed Harry's lips. “It's okay. This store makes me nervous. Always feel like I'm gonna knock something dangerous over.”

“Well if you ever do decide to drop by ever again, I'll be here to make sure you don't.”

Harry nods, his smile more genuine this time. “I'll let you know.”

+-+-+

Harry doesn't want to go back, he really doesn't. He wouldn't, had it not been that Louis forgets to have Riley's food delivered again. 

When he walks into the shop, tightly tucked into his coat, he immediately spots Louis, stocking food bowls. 

He passes three people on his way to Louis. He feels their eyes on him as he passes by, and he’s sure that they look at him strangely,wonder about the red apron he’s wearing. He should've have put it on before he left his apartment, but he figured that after walking through the pet store, his hands would be too shaky to tie the knots. He figured they’d be shaking as badly as they are now.

Harry’s got a death grip on Riley’s leash by the time he reaches Louis.

“L- hi,” he tries. 

Louis’ expression brightens immediately upon turning and seeing Harry.

“Harry! I thought I'd never see you again! To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I'm- um, Riley. Need to stock up on food again.” 

“Oh. Well don't let me hold you up! It's right down there on aisle- _Oh_.” Louis groans into his hands. “Fuck, I'm so sorry. Liam's going to kill me. He really doesn't like me, I'm so fired-”

“It's alright. I haven't spoken to him yet, so I guess we're even. I'll do it today after work, d-don’t give up on your job just yet.”

Louis still looks significantly pained. “No, it's my fault. _Christ,_ your hands are shaking. I'm sorry.” With that, Louis reaches forward and clutches Harry's trembling hands in his own. “C’mon, I'll ring you up myself, let's get you out of here.”

But Louis’ voice is loud, strong, and echoes through the whole store. His noisy bustling attracts eyes. Louis is yammering away, at a volume that Harry would never dare, and Harry can feel about twelve pairs of eyes on him throughout his journey from the food aisle to the cash register. They're judging him, most likely, calling him in their heads Red Apron Boy because he stands out so much and he's with The Boy That's Too Loud.

“Louis, people are staring.” He hasn't stopped shaking and it's probably evident in his voice. 

“Don’t worry about them, they’re just jealous of your luscious curls and your cute friend.” He says it all without looking away from where he’s punching numbers into the register. “Not to mention your beautiful puppy.”

But when Harry’s breathing starts to shorten, Louis notices. He winds around the counter to get to him, but Riley barks at him, tugging on Harry’s sleeve to get him to sit on the floor. He can’t help thinking; they all think he’s a freak, probably even moreso now. He’s causing a scene, he’s causing a huge scene and now he’s crying and his dog keeps barking and he _can’t breathe_. 

Harry doesn’t know how it happens, but suddenly Louis is next to him. Riley never lets strangers get this close, but she doesn’t seem to mind, just nosing at his neck and whining, begging him to breathe.

“Harry, hey. H-You need to- Harry, can you please take a deep breath? I need you to breathe.” His breath starts to get shallow like it always does when he’s too worked up, and he knows that if he doesn’t breathe properly he _will_ pass out. But he’s crying too hard and he’s terrified. “Harry calm down. It’s fine. It’s all okay, no one’s looking at you, no one cares. It’s just us. It’s just me, you and Riley, no one else is looking, it’s not their business. Nothing is wrong with you, I promise.”

The words take a few minutes to register, then he starts to notice that Riley has shifted into his lap and Louis is running his fingers through his hair. He’s sweating like crazy in his coat and sweatshirt, but he can breathe, suddenly aware of just how stupid and unnecessary that panic attack was.

“I forgot t-to take my-my meds,” is the first thing he chokes out, “I’m s-s-sorry.”

He falls into Louis, who holds him like they’ve been friends for a while, like he’s been doing this for a long time before today. And maybe he has, Harry doesn’t know. All Harry knows is that Louis holds him like he means something to him, and that’s something that Harry hasn’t felt in much too long.

“It’s okay,” Louis whispers, shushing him. “You go home and feed your dog, take your meds and get some sleep. I’ll run down to the bookstore and tell them you fell ill. I’m sure they’ll understand.” Harry wants to protest, but Louis is already handing him a plastic shopping bag with the dog food in it. His eyes are so blue, bluer than the plastic seven day organizer that Harry keeps his pills in. “Here you go.” 

Harry takes it, still somewhat dazed, and he jolts when he feels the cold touch of Louis' fingers. He doesn't know if it's because of his anxiety or the stupid little crush he's developing on this spritely Petco employee. 

“How much do I owe you?” he manages.

“It's all taken care of.”

“Bu-”

Then Louis gone, disappeared like a woodland fairy and leaves Harry gaping at the space he'd been occupying. He can't really do anything but leave, go home, do as Louis instructed and hope that he does what he said he would.

+-+-+

Two, three, four times seemed to be a forgetful accident, and Louis didn’t come across as extremely reliable, but the sixth time has Harry quite suspicious to Louis’ motives.

It's rearing towards mid-November, Harry's trans-seasonal anxiety and stress about what costume he’d wear to on Halloween finally passed. He has Thanksgiving to prepare for, having to prepare to go home for the holiday weekend, but he isn't sure how he's supposed to focus on that if he has to worry about going into a pet store to buy dog food every week.

“Maybe you should buy a bigger bag,” Louis suggests, “It'll last longer.”

Harry rolls his eyes, braver and less in a rush. He's relatively calm today, remembered to take his meds, and he's able to look at Louis in a whole new light now that he's had a full month to accept the fact that he does, indeed, have a crush on him.

“It's all I can afford on my weekly salary, asshole.” The smirk he tacks on at the end hopefully removes any animosity from the statement.

Louis bags the food, happily accepts Harry's cash this time. “Aren't you just _charming_.”

“Today’s a good day,” he replies honestly. “I mean, it’s mostly because I don’t have to work, but also-”

“You’re not working today?”

Harry shakes his head. “But also-”

“I’ve been here since five in the morning.” The bags under his eyes and the little tufts of hair that stick out intermittently back up his statement. “Please. Get me out of h- Where do you like to go in your spare time?” 

“I don't really go many places. Just my apartment. And the park.”

Louis perks up. “Your apartment? Can we go there? How far is it?”

Harry thinks he may be living in some wild fantasy, but he doesn't think that offering this young man who resembles an excited squirrel a place to take a break is going to do him much harm.

“On the other side of the park.” 

It’s as if Harry has presented Louis with the meaning as life; his entire face lights up. Albeit it isn’t much, considering how tired and worn he looks.

“Do you mind?” And well, Harry can’t deny good manners. 

Upon entering Harry’s apartment, Louis collapses on his couch as if he can’t help it. He apologizes, says that he got absolutely no sleep last night because today was the first day of his shift change.

“Liam changed your shift?”

Louis nods, eyes fallen shut. His cheek is smushed against the arm of the couch, and he kicks off his shoes so he can curl up further. It’s not doing anything to help Harry’s quickly inflating crush, so he diverts his attention to unhooking Riley from her vest. She jumps up onto the couch beside Louis and cuddles up to him. So yeah, the distraction works.

“I’m gonna go make some tea, you want anything?”

Louis can’t seem to open his mouth very much anymore, quickly falling into sleep. “Tea’s fine.” 

Harry spends the entirety of waiting for the kettle to boil smiling privately to himself. He sets up a full platter because he doesn’t exactly know how Louis takes his tea. Harry nearly spills everything all over himself twelve times, and when he returns to the living room, explaining the tray full of tea supplies, the sound of soft snores fills his ears, coming from Riley and Louis alike. It’s sight that makes Harry’s stomach flip in the strangest way, and he doesn’t even take a second to try to figure out what the hell it means. He simply makes his way to his room, brings the duvet to the couch and drapes it over his new friend and his dog. Harry likes this, the simplicity of it, likes the way that he has to take mind to not make the TV too loud lest he wake Louis. He’s always wanted this, has never found it, and maybe he can have it with Louis. If Louis agrees, of course. 

Harry manages to watch half of a movie he doesn’t know the name of before himself falls asleep on the floor in front of the couch. He’s disoriented and confused when a foot connects with his hip, and he hears the sound of someone falling.

“Oh, fuck me.”

“Wh- Louis?” He remembers now, laughing slightly at the sight of Louis sprawled out on the rug of his living room.

“I have a habit of doing this, don’t I?”

Harry smiles, feeling more at ease than he has in years. “I don’t mind.” He looks at the clock above the TV just as his phone starts to buzz. He flicks it off, and Louis looks at him curiously. “Meds. It can wait.”

Louis frowns, and Riley starts to nuzzle at the back of his neck. “Doesn’t look like it,” Louis quips.

“Sorry.” It causes Harry to blush, but Riley knows well enough by now to bother him until he acquiesces. “I’ll only be a minute, help yourself to whatever you want in the kitchen, since your tea went cold.”

Harry’s guests don’t usually take up his offer, but when he returns, it’s to Louis eating a bowl of cereal on his couch, watching an old episode of _Breaking Bad_.

“I didn’t know I had cereal,” he says as he drops onto the couch. He wraps himself in the blanket as Louis shoves his cold, socked feet underneath Harry’s thighs.

Louis shrugs. “Corn Flakes. Not the most glamourous of cereals, but it’ll have to do.” There’s a minute of silence, save for the TV and Louis munching on the cereal. “You like _Breaking Bad?_ ”

Harry returns Louis’ shrug. “I’ve seen it, more out of obligation to finish it once I’d started than anything else. I hate leaving shows unfinished, I end up thinking about it forever. Not knowing what happens just… Yeah.”

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?”

“You could say that.”

Louis finishes his cereal just as the episode ends. He looks at Riley, who’s looking at Harry, who’s looking at Louis. Louis follows Riley’s intent stare. “She’s very smart,” he comments.

The statement makes Harry snort, a short sound that startles the dog. “I sure hope so, since I pretty much need her to help me daily. Couldn’t function without her.” He reaches down to scratch her ear. “My good, smart girl.”

“It’s just the two of you?” It almost sounds innocent, like he’s simply wondering aloud. Harry thinks he knows where this is going, though, and he fully intends to indulge him.

“Yeah, she really takes good care of me, since I’m all on my own.” Louis is nodding, eyes wide but not giving anything away. They’re dancing around each other, and it’s _fun._ “Plus, it’s hard to keep a steady relationship going when I’m such a handful.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re a handful. Just spending a few hours with you I can tell that anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“Well,” Harry pretends to think about it, “You _have_ seen me at my worst, haven’t you.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, so I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Are you dating anyone, Louis?” It’s more straightforward than what his brain was going for, but then again his mouth has never been good at following instructions.

Louis looks at him for a minute, slightly shocked, before shaking his head. “Are you?”

“Nope.” He pops the “p.”

They smile at each other weirdly for a moment, until Riley barks and startles them out of it.

“My friend, Zayn, is throwing a ‘surprise’ birthday party for me in a few weeks; he’s really bad at keeping secrets. Would you care to come? You can invite Niall and Liam and... I'll be there, if you needed a better reason.”

Harry laughs, pulls the duvet closer to himself. “I'd love to.”

+-+-+

November sort of zooms by rather quickly after that. He's taken to visiting the pet store weekly to buy Riley's food, and Louis is always there with a bright smile. He gets off of his shift right after he rings Harry up, and so he walks him to the bookstore each day.

Harry falls for Louis just a little more each day. He takes to noticing the little things, like the way he always walks with his hands in his pockets, or how he can’t help but drop his head back when something is particularly funny. He notices that Louis bites his nails, that he steps on his own shoes constantly as if he wants them to be dirty. He notices how Louis tries extra hard to make him laugh when he gets anxious in the store or when the park gets busy. Harry sees that Louis welcomes Niall with open arms, becomes friends with him graciously and without question when he catches how happy it makes Harry. He notices when Louis will indulge him talking about his favorite part of a movie they've both seen, how Louis loves it that they have such similar taste. 

When it starts to snow on one unsuspecting November day, Harry notices just how fan-like Louis’ eyelashes are when the snowflakes start to stick to them. Louis wears gloves that day, and makes Harry answer all of his text messages. Harry suggests fingerless gloves, and watches the way Louis shrugs off the suggestion, but his lips twitch like he’s happy that Harry is trying to help. Harry notices the way Louis bumps their elbows and shoulders when they’re walking sometimes, when he thinks that Harry isn’t paying attention because he’s telling a story. 

Harry buys Louis a scarf one day with his spare money and Harry notices the way his eyes crinkle with glee that Harry spent his leftover money on him, which contrasts with the way that Louis punches his arm repeatedly for spending his leftover money on him. Harry finds a thousand ways to make Louis preen under his attention, blush at his obvious flirting. 

Autumn progresses over those two months, and as the leaves keep falling around them Harry keeps falling in love with Louis.

Before he knows it, it's Christmas Eve, and he’s ringing the doorbell to address Louis gave him the day before. He'd fiddling with the cross hanging off his neck and feeling like he’s missing a limb without Riley by his side. He knows it was probably a bad call to leave her, but he couldn’t tote her along to a party where people are most certainly drinking. The music that’s making the apartment door vibrate slightly makes him feel a little more secure in his decision. 

The door swings open, but no one is there to greet him. So he steps inside, shuts it carefully behind him and tries to seek out Louis in the red and green lit apartment. It’s nothing but fairy lights, and he’s in the middle of admiring the decorations when a familiar face pops into his view.

“Harry! You made it! You’re not dead!” It’s Niall, who’s probably red-faced from drinking already, but Harry can’t tell. “Louis thought you were dead. You should go tell him that you’re not dead. He has Liam worrying even though he was only joking.”

Harry does that, finds the both of them at the tailend of what looks like three rounds of shots. He’s irrationally uncomfortable for someone who plans on drinking himself. 

He has to shout over the music, but his “Hey guys!” doesn't go unheard.

Louis automatically throws an arm around him, poking him in the stomach. “Look who's decided to show up! You missed the whole surprise!” He's grinning ear-to-ear, announcing Harry's arrival to everyone in vicinity. Everyone in the kitchen starts to look at Harry very intently, and he's suddenly aware of how much of a stranger he is. 

Luckily, Louis isn't yet drunk enough to not notice the way Harry starts to curl in on himself. 

“Harry,” he uses the end of his fringed scarf to point at a boy with jet-black hair, “This is the famous Zayn I tell you all about. Everyone else is entirely unimportant.” Zayn smiles contently while everyone else shouts unhappily. “Would you like a drink?”

Harry eases up, gratefully accepting the shot glass being shoved into his hand by Liam. It's very out of character, quite scary if Harry's honest, but he doesn't question it.

“Happy Birthday, Lou.”

He drinks until Louis starts to blur around the edges, until he forgets that he's supposed to have a big dog by his side in case he forgets how to breathe. It's hard to remember just what it is he's supposed to remember when he's got Louis hanging off him and reminding him to keep breathing. He really appreciated the warmth that Louis provides. He tells Louis as much, and then proceeds to let Louis lead him to a room with a big window that overlooks the city. Harry hadn't realised how many floors he'd climbed on the elevator because of how nervous he was to be in the small box.

“Do you like me, Harry?

Harry barely hears it, is too busy staring out of the window marvelling at the fact that he can see some stars. He misses that most about home.

“Of course.”

Suddenly Louis’ voice is very close to him when he says, “But do you _like_ me, Harry.”

“What are we, thirteen? Yes, I _like_  you, Louis.”

“In that case,” he can hear Louis smile in the quiet of the room, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Harry sobers up at question, enough to remember the reason his last relationship ended; the combination of his crippling anxiety, the dependence on his dog, and the fact that he's asexual.

“Uh,” Harry feels his face get very hot. “I would love to, but before anything you need to know that like-”

Louis pushes Harry to sit down on the window seat. The glass is cold against his back, clearing his head and helping his thoughts make sense. 

“You can tell me, Harry.”

“It's-” It shouldn't be this hard, he’s told people his sexuality about a million times at this point, almost seamlessly. “I'm never gonna wanna have sex with you, and I just want you to know what you're getting into, because like- it's, uh, called asexual and you can't like-”

“Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“But I just want you to know wh-”

“Me too.”

Harry isn't sure he's heard correctly at first, because he just stares at Louis, not saying a word.

“So am I,” Louis clarifies, “Ace. Me too. It's okay.”

And it's like about a hundred puzzle pieces fall into place. Because he's found someone who knows his worst and still chooses to stick around for his best. He's found someone he can sit with and not talk to for hours but also someone that he can spend just as much time talking with, sharing stories and debating topics. If Harry's life were a cartoon, he'd most definitely have a light bulb floating around his head right now.

“So it's a yes to that date, then?” Louis sounds so adorably hopeful.

Harry nods, pulling Louis into a loose, warm hug. “Most definitely.” He doesn't say those three words yet, even though he's almost certain that's it's Louis he loves. “You think I could kiss you? I like those. Just a little one. But you don't have to, I'm-”

Louis’ mouth is on his, effectively cutting off his dumb rambling.

“I like kisses, too.”

They smile at each other, noses pressed together and backs pressed against the window. 

Harry's got his city behind him and a beautiful boy in front of him, and he's never felt more at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I dont think petco actually delivers dog food
> 
> kudos and comments are very much appreciated , thank you for reading!!


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